The Stag Sister
by FloraRobin
Summary: Rhaelle Baratheon never intended on leaving King's Landing. It had been her home for years. However when her brother arranges her to marry Rob Stark her life changes for the best and the worst.
1. A Truth of Death

Chapter One: A Truth of Death

 _ **Rhaelle Baratheon**_ _ **.**_ _**October 3rd, 297. King's Landing**_

Gripping her hands tightly on the edge of her room balcony, Rhaelle awaited the arrival of her older brother. This particular meeting had been long overdue. Stannis' new secret had been biting at her mind since she had first realized her brother was keeping something from her.

Her suspicions had arose when Stannis had begun behaving very oddly throughout that week. His face was growing gaunter by the day, and his eyes seemed to resemble a man nearing death. He was burdened by something. A truth that only she seemed to see. She had brought it up to Renly over dinner one night. He had laughed off her concerns, merely claiming that their brother had always been serious and depressed. Rae, however, knew differently. Though Stannis was not a light-hearted man, she knew something much greater was at work.

Her concerns were only increased when he refused to acknowledge her pleas for company. In King's Landing, Rhaelle was the only one Stannis fully trusted. He rarely kept secrets. This secret, however, was forbidden to her. Only Jon Arryn seemed somewhat knowledgeable about the nature of it. She had seen them in each other's company often throughout the week. An odd occurrence for Stannis loathed the man, and everyone knew that John had always favored Robert. When she had seen them together, a feeling burned at her heart like hot iron overcoming her veins. To think that her brother, her mentor, would keep mum with Jon Arryn instead of herself!

A curt knock sounded at her door. Sighing, Rae smoothed her hair which had grown astray by the growing night wind. Turning, she entered her room and closed the balcony doors behind her. The knock came again. Impatient.

"Come in, Stannis, for goodness sake."

The door opened as soon as she had said the first two words. Stannis stormed into the room brashly and abruptly. Following him, more slowly, was Jon Arryn. Arryn, perhaps, look more ill than even her brother. He had grown thin, despite his robustness in his old age. He, however, was not a tall man despite his broad shoulders and seemed shadowed by the giant form of her brother.

"Sister," Stannis greeted, crossing his arms tightly and eying her with irritation, "You've been snooping."

The statement was sudden and accusatory, but Rae did not rise to Stannis' irate nature. Instead, she pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips.

"You left me little choice, Stannis. Robert and Renly may be blind to your activities, but I am not so easily fooled," she cast a weary look at Jon Arryn, "I found nothing, of course. You both have done quite a good job containing whatever plot you've hatched. The only thing I've gathered is that you have been taking many trips to visit a master smith as well some local peasant families."

"Did you send someone to spy on us?" Stannis asked, crossly. He hated being caught, especially by his little sister.

"Of course not. I followed you myself," Arryn quirked a skeptical eyebrow, but Stannis seemed less than moved by her response, "Whatever it is you know…the less people that know about this, the better. The only way what I want will be done right is if I do it myself."

Jon laughed, briskly and suddenly. The sound startled both of the Baratheon siblings. Stannis, ever looking for an insult, eyed the man with cautious eyes.

"You, my girl, are a lovely surprise. I had always thought you a fierce lady, but never did I suspect such intelligence," Arryn laughed again, seating himself on the nearest chair.

"Better hidden then exposed," Rae answered swiftly, "Now, will you cease my wondering and tell me what you keep secret?"

"I think you would be more comfortable sitting, sister."

"I am fine standing," Rhaelle briskly replied, hating when Stannis tried to control her like she was some green child. Stannis' eye ticked slightly, and, in two quick steps, he was standing over her. Putting his two large hands on her shoulders, he pushed her into the nearest seat. Opposite Jon. Aggravated, but knowing that she must play her part in front of the Hand of the King, Rae grinded her teeth slightly. A habit she had picked up from the man now standing, arms still crossed, to her left.

"Lady Baratheon, what we tell you today is told to you in confidence. Stannis has assured me of your integrity, and I am inclined to believe you have the kingdom's best interest at heart. Never have I doubted your honor, and, as I have grown to know you in recent years, I believe that you may be one of the few people in this city that would reply to this knowledge with a level-head."

"I thank you for your kind words, Lord Arryn. You have my word that anything said in this room will remain here unless I am told otherwise."

"Yes, that is all well and good, but, Rhaelle, I will have you know that the _only_ reason I am telling you any of this is because I know that you'll get us all killed with your curiosity. I do not feel great comfort exposing you to this truth. It is treasonous, and it will put your life at risk if anyone were to find out. Yet, you have left us little choice. Your questions have been drawing unfriendly eyes," Stannis paused, his gaze fixed on her own with a complex look that frightened her, "Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not Robert's heirs. They were born from the incestuous relations of Cersei and Jaime Lannister."

At first, Rhaelle was sure she had heard him wrong. Her mouth had dropped, and she struggled to maintain her composure. Her mind repeated Stannis' words over and over again, desperate to grasp onto their meaning. Then, she was overcome with the need to protest. However, as her eyes trailed to her trembling hands, Rae knew that this was not as shocking as she had wished it could be. She saw the three children in her mind. Blonde. Blue-eyed. Lannisters. She saw the way Cersei and Jaime lurked around each other. How, at times, they had seemed eerily in tune to each other. Then a rage, greater than she had ever though consumed her, and Rae leapt from her seat.

As soon as she had taken two steps, her knees clacked together. Stannis, knowing his sister far better than she knew herself, was by her side before she even fell. His hands were once more on her shoulders, more tenderly this time, and he was once again lowering her into her abandoned chair.

Rae felt sick.

"Lady Baratheon, you look ill. If it would please you, I could get you some water? Wine, perhaps?" Jon Arryn's eyes were bright and concerned. Rae struggled to smile at him, but managed a weak grimace.

"No. No, _thank you,_ Lord Arryn. I just…your proof!" The words came up a bit rushed, but still she regained some of her propriety, "Where is your proof?"

A large book seemed to appear out of nowhere from the Hand's lap. The man flipped to a predetermined page, turning the large text towards her with a grim look. Her hands, still shaking slightly, pulled the text closer. Drawing her eyes to the title at the top corner of the page was the words: _The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms._

Before she could stomach looking at the page, her eyes drifted to Stannis'. His eyes had not left her face since she had nearly fallen. Though Stannis was not a loving man, Rae had always known her brother loved her. He had protected her since her birth. Where Renly had been her best friend, where Robert had been the brother she most sought to please, Stannis was the man who raised her. He nodded, urging her to accept and join him in the darkness. At seventeen, Rae suddenly felt as if she was too young for this burden. But, Stannis had never shielded her from the world. After all, she had brought this on herself.

The page was fully dedicated to House Baratheon. The paper was old and wrinkled, making it difficult to read the ink, but Rae could easily make out the many names of her ancestors.

 _Steffon Baratheon: black of hair, blue eyed._

 _Robert Baratheon: black of hair, blue eyed._

 _Stannis Baratheon: black of hair, blue eyed._

 _Renly Baratheon: black of hair, blue eyed._

 _Rhaelle Baratheon: black of hair, blue eyed._

 _Joffrey Baratheon: blonde of hair, green eyed._

Every Baratheon was the same. Black haired and blue eyed. That was, of course, except for the last three names. All blonde hair, all green eyed. Closing the book, quickly, she laid her hands on the old leather. They sat in silence. She felt their eyes on her as if waiting for her to faint.

"And what of your visits to the town?" The question came out in a rasp, and Rhaelle cursed herself for sounding so weak.

"Lord Arryn informed me of our brother's bastards," Stannis spat this out, disgusted by the image Robert had created for himself, "There are many more than even I had expected. A boy and a young girl in this very kingdom and who knows how many more across the Seven Kingdoms. I wished to see the King's children for myself and compare them to the one's he claims."

"There is a boy, Gendry Waters…he looks so like your brother that there became little question that our suspicions were more than warranted," Jon Arryn added.

"Which one of you first harbored this thought? You, Lord Arryn, or you, brother?"

"I had suspected...and, once I was nearly certain, I enlisted Lord Arryn's aid. Robert would not listen to me. But, Lord Arryn is a man our brother considers family."

Rhaelle was not at all surprised that her brother was the one who had first discovered this treason. Her brother was sharp and had no issue calling out his brother or exposing anything he felt less than honorable. Jon Arryn, however, was not a man who looked for trouble and was far too loyal to Robert to even house such a suspicion without undeniable proof.

"What ever shall we do?"

"You shall do nothing, sister," Stannis snapped, reaching over to grab the book and snap it shut, "You shall sit here like a proper lady and let Lord Arryn and I handle this treason. Do you understand?"

Rhaelle said nothing, refusing to look her brother in the eye. He often played the role of jury, judge and executioner in Rae's life. When she was out of line, Stannis was always the one who decided her punishment.

"Do you understand, Rhaelle?" He said it again, kneeling down in front of her and moving her head up by the chin to look him in their identical eyes. Pursing her lips, Rae held back a grimace.

"Yes, Stannis. I understand."

* * *

 _ **Rhaelle Baratheon. October 6th, 297. King's Landing.**_

Rhaelle Baratheon had not spoken to Jon Arryn since the night that had changed everything. He had, according to Stannis, locked himself in his tower and had only spoken to the Small Council and Robert. Even his wife, Lysa Tully, had not seen her much elder husband in more than three days. He supped by himself, slept in his study. Stannis, that morning when he had joined her for breakfast, had criticized the man for drawing attention to himself. Rae, however, pitied the man. She knew that he was now faced with a greater burden then she and Stannis had to bare. He was now responsible with confronting Robert and persuading the King of the undeniable truth.

Dressed in a plain gown of grey, Rae entered the local market with the intentions of seeking out Robert's son. Gendry Waters had been a name that was constantly on her mind. She pitied the boy for his lack of father. However, she knew that Robert, even if he had accepted his bastard, would never had been a good parent. Even to his own "children", he was cold. Though not cruel like Cersei, Robert would only spare his children attention when he was drunk or troubled. Cersei, however, was loving only to her eldest. Her niece and lovely Tommen had always been ignored, left with only each other as company. So, it had been herself, Jaime Lannister, and Renly who had offered the two youngest as much love and attention as they could offer. Renly, however, was often busy with work on the Small Council while Jaime was concerned with his duties as a member of the Kingsgaurd. That had left Rhaelle as the lone aunt who took time daily to spend with the two sad children.

Rhaelle, upon entering the market, was immediately flocked by people of all kinds. Many vendors were eager to get her attention, knowing the money she likely had at her disposal. Rae was perhaps the only noble in all of King's Landing that was seen often outside of the Red Keep, among the peasants. The royals had no interest, it seemed, in their people for she had never seen such a poor and hurting city.

She avoided the people who were desperate to speak to her with kind smiles. Pretending to look at the nearest silk table, Rae slowly made her way through the square with intentions of making it to the blacksmith's workshop at the top of the Street of Steel.

Rae entered the shop, immediately overwhelmed by the sudden heat that overwhelmed her body. There was no one in sight, though the fires were burning eagerly. She observed the shop, eying the man swords that lined the blacksmith's walls. Stepping forward, she traced the beautiful curve of the nearest sword. Stunned by the beauty of the steel.

"Can I help you, my lady?"

Rhaelle turned quickly, started by the sudden voice. The man standing behind her was old, but his arms were large with muscle. No doubt from his constant work. He wore all leather and seemed to be sweating even more than she. Stepping forward, Rae smiled at him.

"Yes. You are Tobho Mott, or am I mistaken?"

"I am Tobho Mott. And, may I ask, who you are?" The man was no doubt surprised by her appearance. It was not often that a fair lady arrived in his shop. And there was no doubt that this was a fair woman.

"I am Rhaelle Baratheon. I have come seeking the boy known as Gendry Waters. I was told he is your apprentice," she smiled again, trying to appeal to the man's good senses. Mott, however, seemed not at all shocked by her request. Rather he looked protective, annoyed.

"That boy sure has attracted some odd folk. He is not here at the moment, my lady. I've sent him to Flea Bottom to deliver a package. He'll be back by nightfall."

Rae nodded, disappointed that her trip had been for naught. Saying a kind farewell to the blacksmith, she departed into the already dwindling day. Once in the street, she paused, deciding if a trip to Flea Bottom was worth seeing her brother's bastard. She would not get another free day like this for quite some time. Flea Bottom was not a large area…she should have very little trouble finding the boy.

Decided, Rhaelle turned down the Street of the Sister. Her still young mind conjuring up images of the boy.

Flea Bottom was the slums of King's Landing. The street was lined with homeless families, prostitutes, and thieves. Rae held herself to the walls of the homes, eager to stay out of sight. The homes were all open, letting in all the cool air as possible. This make it easy for Rae to search for the boy with her family's looks.

By the fourth home, Rae began to regret ever wandering without a guard. All of her brothers had chastised her for constantly dismissing her guards. Rae didn't like the company. She felt suffocated whenever one of their men would follow her. Today was no exception. She had dismissed all the men who had been sent by her brother's, lying to them about her intentions of the day. She had said that she planned to stay in bed, resting. An easy fib for it was not unnatural for the youngest stag to need time to herself.

In the distance, she saw a tall boy elbowing his way through a crowd of prostitutes whom were grabbing at his arms. Due to his height, Rae was sure that the boy was at least her age. However, when he turned his face in her direction, she saw his youthfulness and could believe him to be at most fourteen. His face took the breath from her. He was tan, black haired, muscular for his age. And, in that moment, seeing him, Rae was sure she was seeing Renly. He had the Baratheon look, of that there was no doubt. His eyes were identical to both Renly's and Robert's. A light blue like a calming sky. Stannis and Rae had always bore a darker blue with splashes of violet.

"By the gods," she managed to whisper, elbowing forward with intentions of speaking to the boy. Her path, however, was intercepted by the sudden stampede of horses. A path was immediately made for the noble arrivals. No doubt arriving through the Iron Gate. Rae stumbled to the side, desperately trying to shield her face with her dark hair. Through the corner of her eye, she easily recognized the colors of House Lannister and cursed her luck. The caravan had nearly made it past her when a lone rider paused, waving his hand forward for the rest of the men to move on.

Rhaelle did not pause to examine his features. Instead she cursed, quickly moving her body toward the nearest alleyway in an attempt to lose the man. However, the Lannister was fast. She heard his heavy boots hit the ground before she had even made it to the mouth of the side street. Walking a bit faster, she ducked forward in hopes of blending in with a crowd. However, she was immediately pulled backward by her upper arm and hauled back onto the main street.

Looking up, Rae felt sick at the sight of Jaime Lannister who was looking down at her from under a set of heavy eyebrows. His golden hair was still perfect, despite his ride, and his green eyes glistened in the sunlight. She had once thought him beautiful. Now, however, she could barely stand to look at him.

Steeling her feet against the street, she saw him visibly lurch backwards at her sudden stop.

"How dare you try to handle me as if I was some child to be cared for! You have no right, no reason, to intercept me," she spat, pulling her arm from his tight grip. He sent her an annoyed look.

"I have every right, my lady," Jaime replied, giving her a flippant smile, "You stand out among the scum like a diamond among many rocks."

"Hardly," Rae snapped, turning away from him with every intention of leaving him in the dust. Jaime kept up with her strides effortlessly. They were getting stares now. Every eye was on the golden clad man, "You are attracting attention."

"Me?" Jaime laughed, stopping her once more with his arm and leaning down to whisper in her ear, "They do not stare at me, Lady Baratheon. These people gaze at you. Look there, do you see those men?"

She followed his line of sight to a few large men hovering around the entrance to a pub. They were indeed staring, leering.

"Those men would kill to lie with a woman as pure as you. They would rape you then kill you. We would find you in the streets, bloody and naked, dead."

"I can handle myself," Rhaelle snapped, struggling in his arms. But, Jaime did not remove his hand.

"Yet, here I am. Now, come with me and be quiet or I'm sure your brothers would be quite interested in hearing about this incident."

Drawing herself up, Rae cast Jaime a dark look to which he only responded with a loud laugh. She turned on her heel, marching back towards his horse with her head held high. She could feel his grinning eyes on her. Eyes that used to belong to her friend.

It was hours later when a soft knock came upon her bedroom door. Surprised, Rhaelle went to the door, peeking through the crack she made when she opened it. Standing there was her favorite member of the Kingsguard.

Barristan Selmy had always favorited Rhaelle out of all the king's family. Since she had moved to the castle as a girl, Barristan had looked forward to the days where he was assigned to look after the youngest sibling of King Robert. She had been a sweet girl turned into a strong lovely woman. Rhaelle Baratheon had always been the best of the Baratheon's, receiving the best traits of all her brother's yet retaining none of their evils.

"Ser Barristan," Rhaelle greeted, smiling at the elder man, "I feel like I haven't spoken to you in ages. How are you?"

"Well, my lady, as I always am when I see you," he smiled when she laughed loudly, opening her door fully, "However, I am here for more than a social chat."

"I assumed so," Rae grinned, stepping out into the hall and closing her door, "What does Robert want _now_?"

Barristan tried to contain his grin, and Rhaelle gave him a pointed look knowing he was holding back his laughter. Barristan had always been to loyal for his own good. Never had he spoken ill of the king, even when Robert had done things that the noble man had not approved of.

"The _King_ wishes to speak to you," Barristan replied, turning to face the hall and gesturing for the lady to walk before him. Rae did so easily, marching down the hall and down the stairs towards the King's study. Barristan followed at a steady pace, loyally trailing behind her.

"Do you have any idea what this about?" Rae asked, as they neared the room, "I haven't seen Robert in days, but I do not suspect he calls me for my company."

"I cannot say for sure, my lady."

"Come now, Ser. You are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. You must have some inkling, no matter how small. Whenever Robert summons me, I am getting punished or there is a very serious matter."

"All I can say, my lady, is that a raven arrived not an hour ago from the North."

"That is not very helpful being that we are as South as you can get. Anybody could have sent that raven," Rae responded, stopping in front of the door to Robert's study. The large doors loomed in front of her. Red oak and all together beautiful. Rhaelle had always loved the King's study. Everything was so beautifully made. Even the door, as insignificant as it was, was hand carved with beautiful images that reflected the great Houses throughout the Kingdom. Turning to face her guard, Rhaelle sent a smile of thanks and entered the room.

As usual, the study was in disarray. Papers, parchment, wine, food, clothes everywhere. Robert had never been organized. Daily the maids organized this room, and daily Robert ruined it. But, it was beautiful all the same. With a high ceiling, a grand bookshelf, maps on every table, a beautifully carved fireplace, Rae could only imagine how much history these walls had seen. Every king since the beginning of time had sat in this study.

Robert was sitting on one of the lounge chairs, wine in hand and talking gruffly to a very unhappy Stannis. Stannis met her eyes almost immediately. Her brother looked grave, angry, intense. Stannis was always blank faced, yet today his face nearly glowed with contained fury. Renly was leaning against the wall, grinning easily at her. At once, Rae felt herself calm. Renly was always able to make Rae feel at peace. Whatever she was summoned for couldn't possibly be too serious if Renly was involved.

"Sister," he greeted, loudly and dramatically. He moved towards her arms outstretched. He grabbed both of her arms with one hand, holding her at arm's length, "You look wonderful today."

"I look the same as I did yesterday, Renly," Rae responded, but the corner of her mouth curved upwards and revealed her gratitude, "Now, what's the meaning of this? Is this some sort of family meeting?"

"Of sorts, little sister," Renly responded, leading her over to their older siblings. He shoved her harshly into a chair so she was sitting opposite Robert. Both Stannis and Renly stayed standing. It was an odd arrangement that Rae wasn't certain she liked. For a moment, Robert and Rhaelle did nothing but stare at each other.

Robert had once been handsome and strong. More handsome than even Renly. She remembered a time where her brother was a jovial man. He would lift her in the air, play with her. In his youth, Robert had been a hero with men and women who worshiped the ground he walked on. Now, King Robert was a fat foolish man. Whoring, drinking, eating his way to an early grave and taking the kingdom with him. Robert had never been a man made for sitting and planning. That had always been Stannis. No, Robert was a man built for war, and the throne was killing him. Rhaelle, though she loved Robert in a way, was ashamed of her brother. To look upon him was always hard for she could not ignore what her eyes always would see. A red face, a round belly, a long unkept black beard. Even his eyes were red and watery. Robert Baratheon the champion was almost gone.

"Rhaelle," Robert started, leaning back in his chair as he continued to stare at his youngest sibling, his only sister, "I've got good news."

Rae grimaced, quite certain that Robert and she had a very different definition of 'good news'. Good news was a prospering kingdom, a summer rain, a book. To Robert, good news was a whore, a flask, and a full belly.

"Oh, wonderful," Rae answered, her voice betraying her lack of enthusiasm. But, suddenly Rae realized she was quite out of the loop. All of her brothers knew of this news and had gotten together, as a united front, to tell her about it. That was concerning in itself. Her brother's rarely united on anything, "Well, come on, Robert. What is it?"

Robert passed her a piece of parchment. Opening the letter slowly, her eyes immediately caught sight of the sigil of the Starks, a wolf. Now very curious, Rhaelle found herself eager to read. Anything involving the Stark's was bound to be interesting. The Starks always kept to themselves. To receive a letter, now that was something.

However, as the letter continued on and on, Rae felt her heart sink lower and lower until she feared that it would burst out of her chest. Her mind numbed, hands beginning to shake, mouth dry. Rhaelle could not believe what was happening. Her eyes scanned over and over the few words at the bottom of the letter. Such few words that defined something so monumental, so life changing.

"Robert," Rhaelle rasped, her eyes flittering up to meet his. He was grinning at her, unaware of her obvious distress, "What-what is this?"

"It is as written, girl," Robert laughed, speaking to her as if she was some village idiot, "You are to wed Ned Stark's son, Robb. You'll wed him, bed him, and at last our lines will join."


	2. Gossip and Gone

Chapter Two: Gossip and Gone

 _ **Rhaelle Baratheon. October 6th, 297. King's Landing**_

"It is as written, girl," Robert laughed, speaking to her as if she was some village idiot, "You are to wed Ned Stark's son, Robb. You'll wed him, bed him, and at last our lines will join."

Hearing these words from Robert made the truth all the more real. Bewildered, Rae threw the letter from her hand and leapt to her feet. Her body shook, her mind raced. This couldn't be happening.

"She's so happy she doesn't even have a thing to say," Robert was saying, laughing still. However, Stannis' eyes were burning into the side of her head, awaiting the ultimate breakdown. Renly too was watching her cautiously, no longer smiling. Only good King Robert was out of the loop.

At last, Rhaelle met Stannis' eyes, her eyes. They told her everything and nothing all at once. They confirmed Robert's words, confirmed her fate. Stannis was not pleased with this, of that Rae was certain. But, she cared not for his heart. How could he do this to her. His betrayal hit her like a storm, and the youngest Baratheon sibling was furious.

"How dare you, Robert," Rae spoke quietly, but Robert's silence confirmed he had heart the sinister tone in her cold voice, "How dare all of you."

"Rhaelle," Renly started, holding is hand out to calm her. But, Rhaelle was past that. She was furious, and she was hurt. Two dangerous combinations in a Baratheon woman. Stumbling backwards, her eyes flashed to each of them, piercing them with a wounded gaze unlike anything they had seen before.

"No, this is beyond anything…I cannot believe you all would do this behind my back. Do I not matter enough to you? Do you love me so little?" She was not yet yelling, but each of the brothers knew that one word would send her into a fit. Robert, of course, was the one to open his mouth. He was up out of his chair, staring at the girl like a rabid dog.

"This is no matter of love, Rhaelle," he muttered, on edge, "This is a matter of doing what is right by your family."

"My family?" She whispered, and Renly shared a cautious look with Stannis. The fuse was lit, and Rhaelle would soon crack, "My family has been all I have worked for since the moment you dragged me to this god forsaken place. I have tried day and night to work with these…these horrible people! I play my part as your sister yet you have not once shown me an ounce of respect as anything more than that little child you ignored until she was convenient. You are a disappointment, Robert."

Robert was up, his face blistering red with barley held in rage. Both Stannis and Renly inched closer yet Rae had only eyes for her eldest brother. The mighty King.

"Don't patronize me, woman," Robert roared, wagging his finger at her and treading nearer, "You act so high and mighty, but you're just as weak as the rest of them."

"Weak?" Rae laughed, gesturing to him mockingly, "Look at yourself, Robert. You're a joke! A disgrace to-"

"Don't," Robert yelled, "Don't finish that sentence, Rhaelle. You will marry Robb Stark. You will be happy about it. You will respect me. You're being an ungrateful cunt. Keep your mouth shut like your fucking supposed to because your word means nothing. Your word is useless to me, to this kingdom, and to your future husband," Robert spat, sending her a demeaning look.

"My word means more around here than yours bloody does. Nobody gives two damns about what you've got to say," she laughed mockingly, her arms open wide in a cocky stance, "You're a fine King, Robert. I'm sure all those starving people in the city agree. I'm sure your Small Council agrees as you whore and drink us into debt! I'm sure your bloody wife agrees when you sleep with whores in the open and refuse to love her because you're obsessed with some women who never loved you!"

At once, the room froze as the air seemed to suck out of the room in a stifling silence. Stannis was the first to move, stepping forward, but Robert had already recovered. Rhaelle had hardly seen his hand coming up to strike her before she felt the horribly sharp pain.

Her body hit the ground with a resounding bang. Her vision was dark as the force of his swing made her waver between consciousness and unconsciousness. She could see Robert hovering over her, and, hatefully, she stared into his startled blue eyes.

"Damn you, Robert," Rhaelle hissed, gritting through her pain, "Damn you!"

Robert gave her one last look and turned to march from the room. The door slammed harshly after him, shuttering the entire room.

For a moment, the room was instilled in silence. Rhaelle could feel herself lose her rage. Her breathing slowed, but began to get uneven as she held back tears. Standing wobbly, Rhaelle turned her back, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs. But, her back shook with the exertion. Both of them could tell and shared a look of awkward uncomfortableness. One of the things Renly and Stannis both hated was a weeping woman. Luckily, Rae was usually not one of them. But, she too was only a woman despite her strength, and they both knew she too could weep.

"I'll be back," Stannis muttered, casting a subtle look to Renly and swiftly striding from the room with his back tense and face drawn.

"Rhaelle," Renly said at last, walking behind her and grabbing her hand. He turned her to face him and nearly grimaced at her teary eyes and rapidly bruising face. Brushing his finger lightly over the swell, Renly hissed angrily, "Damn him. Never should he hit you so. He has no right."

"He has every right," Rhaelle replied hollowly with barely concealed bitterness in her tone, "He is my King and my brother."

"It matters not; you are the only thing we are meant to protect by blood. The only thing. Father used to tell us that, you know?" Renly smiled then, sadly as he ran his hand down his sister's long hair, "You've rarely needed our protection though because you've always been strong, my darling sister. And no matter what Robert says, you mean something to me…to _us."_

"I've always needed your protection, Ren," Rhaelle whispered as he pulled her to his chest, "Always."

Renly held her close, his long arms wrapping around her fully as he allowed her to bury her head into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, kissing the crown of her head. His little sister barley reached the top of chest, she had always been so little compared to him. And so they stood, holding each other. Both were deep in thought, Rhaelle slightly weeping. Renly Baratheon was many things, but he was not cruel. Never had he said such things to his sister. Only Robert was able to hurt her so. Stannis and Renly loved her far too much.

Renly was thinking about all the times his sister had defended him. With five years between them, Rhaelle and Renly had often be left to themselves as children. Robert and Stannis had been far too old to play with them. She had always been there to reign him back when he had gone too far, and he had been there to make her smile. Breathing in her scent, Renly closed his eyes and savored this moment. Rhaelle had always been his best friend since birth. As a babe, she had followed him around constantly. They had shared everything. Even now, there would be times when Rae was upset and would curl up with him deep into the night and talk about everything under the sun.

"I love you more than I love them," Renly breathed, stepping back slightly just to see her face, "Truly, I do not know if there is any in this world I love more than you."

Rhaelle knew that only half of that statement was truth. Yes, there was no doubt that Renly loved here more than he loved Robert and Stannis combined, but Rhaelle could think of another that stood before her in Renly's love.

"As I love you, Ren," Rhaelle replied, smiling faintly. She stared at her brother, taking in his handsome face. He was the thinnest of her brother's, tall but not as tall as their elders. With his long black hair and clean shaven face, he was a handsome man. "You will come with me won't you? I couldn't bare the trip alone."

Pulling back, Renly smiled at her, wiping the tears from her lovely face. Kissing her forehead, he bowed his head.

"Have no fear, little sister. Your elder brother will come and protect you from the North," He replied dramatically with laughter in his eyes. Then, more seriously, he said, "Keep your chin up, sister. Your brothers will watch out for you, do not fear," Renly said, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. The door smacked open with a loud bang and suddenly Stannis was standing in the doorway looking very much like a man ready to kill.

At once, Renly was at his side. They muttered quickly to each other, eyes on her. Renly straightened then and gave her one last wink as he marched out the door. The door closed, and Rae was left her Stannis.

Stannis stared at her for a moment, his jaw tense and looking very gaunt in the shadows. His eyes were shadowed, and he was nearly shaking with rage. Abruptly, he turned towards the fireplace and seated himself before the hearth. However, on his way, he grabbed the remains of Robert's wine and chugged it in one quick swipe.

Rhaelle gazed at him to see her brother staring forlornly into the fire. His elbows were rested on his knees, his finger up and resting against his lips. A pose of great thought, his eyes did not move from the fire as Rae walked towards him. She did not sit, but hovered by the couch side.

"Stannis, are you alright?"

At once, Stannis sent her a dark look and motioned for her to sit. She sat at his side, following his gaze into the fiery abyss.

"The nerve of him," Stannis muttered, his eyes on her cheek, "You said nothing but the truth. Every word of it. There's no wrong in that."

"Robert hears no truth. Robert sees no truth. Robert hears only what Robert wishes to hear. Robert turns a blind eye to the horrors he wishes not to see," Rhaelle said solemnly, remembering the bodies at her feet, remembering death, "Robert should have never been king."

Her words hung between them like a dark entity. Here they spoke of something treasonous, something horribly wrong yet the only truth they knew.

"He is the King whether you wish it or not, Rhaelle," Stannis sighed, "Do not speak such words again, do you understand?"

"Yes."

But, despite his words Rhaelle knew he agreed with her fully.

"I will not tell you lies like Renly nor will I patronize you like Robert," Stannis said at last, still not meeting her eyes, "I do not know what kind of man Robb Stark is nor can I say for certain that you will be happy in Winterfell among the Northerners. But, you will make due, sister. You are no common lady. You are a Baratheon with the blood of the first kings, and you are my blood, my only sister. I have raised you from a child and watched you grow into a woman grown."

He finally turned to her, his eyes flaming in the reflection of the fire. Rae watched his face, taking in his long features. Stannis looked worn.

"You will do your part for our House, you will do your duty as the King's sister because you know honor," he paused, looking like he wanted to say more, but instead he rose, "If it counts for anything, I was opposed to this marriage."

With that, Stannis was out of the room leaving Rae alone with her thoughts and that dreaded letter. Her eyes glanced to it, not knowing if she had the strength to pick it up. At last, she reached over and lifted the words to her face. Once more she took in the words that sealed her fate.

 _On behalf of my firstborn son, Robb, I accept this offer of union between House Baratheon and House Stark._

* * *

 _ **Rhaelle Baratheon. October 7th, 297. King's Landing.**_

Tyrion Lannister was the first person she had seen the morning after her fate had been sealed. She had crept out of her room, hiding from the world but desperate for sunlight. But, her luck was failing as of late. As soon as she turned the corning that led away from the main staircase, Tyrion Lannister was standing in front of her.

The dwarf had always held great respect for Rae not only as the King's sister but as an intellectual. In turn, Rae had always held Tyrion in a high regard, valuing his company and time. They both saw things as they were, saw people for who they were.

"Ah, Lady Baratheon," Tyrion greeted, smiling in that knowing way of his, "Someone's looking quite suspicious today."

"Lord Tyrion, as usual you manage to find me when I do not wish to be found," Rae responded, blunt with the man as he was with her. Tyrion took no offense. He gazed up at her, and his eyes caught sight of the horrible bruise that trailed from her cheek to the top of her forehead. She was angry at his gaze and let him know with a curl of her lips. Tyrion cleared his throat, bowing her head.

"Yes, well, I can imagine you'll find it quite difficult to hide these next few days, my lady," Tyrion replied, smirking up at her. Rae did not like that smirk. It meant Tyrion knew something she did not, "Your lovely brother just announced to the entire royal court that you're to leave in a less than a week to marry some grave Stark boy. I'm quite positive you're the talk of the castle."

"Wonderful," Rae snapped bitterly, peering down at him with an irritated look, "I suppose there will be things to plan."

"Yes, the usual excitement. Packing, gift giving, travel arrangements, and let us not forgetting the very exciting activity of dress fitting," the sarcasm in his voice made Rae want more than anything to punch him in his little face. She instead smiled thinly, no doubt looking quite like a woman who wanted nothing more than to throw herself off the highest tower.

"Quite exciting, I'm sure," she muttered through her teeth, "Simply can't wait." Tyrion pierced her with a tender look then. He reached out a small hand, gripping her own tightly. Gazing up at her, Tyrion felt a sadness overtake his heart. Here was a woman who had always treated him kindly. The kindest woman he had ever known.

"The Starks are a noble family. Their men are grave, cold, and difficult to move but if any woman could survive up there it would be you," Tyrion's eyes went to her cheek, staring at it head-on. He was never a man to hide shame. He knew above any the pain of stares so he wore it proudly as she would wear her scars, "He fears what you say, Rhaelle, for there has always been truth in your words. Do not lose that." He stepped back, and forced himself to turn away from the uncomfortable gratitude that shined in her eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion," she whispered, and he bowed his head once making his way around her and towards the library.

Rhaelle enjoyed her job as assistant to Maester Pycelle. Though she could hardly say she liked Pycelle himself, it was a job of importance that gave her meaning in her usually unimportant life. She did not enjoy the gossiping and social circles like many of the other ladies did. It seemed as if only Rhaelle and Cersei Lannister herself disliked the women's circle. But, with children and queenly duties, her good-sister was always quite busy with one thing or another. So, Rhaelle had approached Pycelle at the tender age of twelve requesting to learn the arts of healing.

Pycelle was a snake, slithering to and fro to please everyone yet no one all at one. He had denied her at first but, after Rhaelle had crept into the healing rooms day after day, the man was forced to confront someone about it. Of course, Pycelle had been foolish. He had marched straight to Robert with reports of her misdeeds. Little did he know that Robert couldn't have cared less what his sister was up to. Had Pycelle, perhaps, have gone to Stannis instead he would have had more success. Yet, alas, five years later she was still working to heal those in need.

Pycelle knew his craft well but was often busy with Small Council duties to deal with the small necessities. It was up to her and a young mute woman, Anne, to deal with the injured nobles of the capital. Rhaelle preferred to work without Pycelle hovering over her. He was a sneaky man, suspicious and crafty. Pycelle had served three kings before Robert. There was no doubt in her mind that, to last so long and favorably amongst some of the worst men in the Kingdoms, Pycelle played a wise game.

When she arrived, Anne was scrubbing out some ointment bowls and looked quite interested in her duties. The sound of Rae's footsteps caused the girl to look up immediately with wide eyes. Anne was her closest female friend. She was kind, a good listener, and sharp. What she lacked in looks, she made up in heart.

"Hello, Anne," Rae smiled, setting down her bags and smiling at the girl. Dressed in a plain gown of brown and white with her hair pulled out of her face, Rhaelle looked every bit ready for work. Anne grinned back, nearly tripping over her own feet to greet her. However, the bruise caused her to pause. Alarmed, Anne pointed to her own cheek.

"Robert," and at once her friend knew. Frowning, Anne shook her head, "I'm sure you heard the news." That sure got Anne grinning again. Immediately, Anne was grasping her hand and jumping up and down in glee. Smiling, Rhaelle allowed the older women to wrap her arms around her and squeeze. As the embraced, Rae felt her tears grow.

"You're coming with me," Rhaelle muttered and at once Anne pulled back in shock. She shook her head, her eyes watering in regret. Rae smiled, gazing down at the much smaller woman, "Yes, Robert says the wedding may be held in Riverrun. I can bring whomever I wish, and I want _you."_

There was a knock on the door and man entered. At once, Rae stiffened feeling herself stiffen as she became Lady Baratheon. Petyr Baelish had a way of making Rhaelle nervous. Whenever he was around, the young woman was on her toes and waiting for a strike.

Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, was a short slender man with sharp feature and blue-green eyes like a cat. With his dark hair slowly threading grey and pointed beard, Petyr Baelish looked unassuming. But, it was his smile that had always thrown Rhaelle. A subtle curl of the lip as if he knew something she did not.

"Ah, Lady Baratheon," The Master of Coin greeted, sweeping in an exaggerated bow. Tense, Rhaelle watched him as he crept near, "I wondered if I would find you here. I suppose I should offer you my congratulations. Robb Stark is a lucky man. It seems the North always seem to capture our Southern beauties." Ah, Catelyn Stark. Petyr's long love, the one who got away.

"Perhaps it's because we tire of Southern _charm."_

"That I doubt, if such ladies were interested in Northern charm they would not bear the battle wounds from their brothers," Petyr smirked, exposing her lies for what they were, "Robert has always been heavy handed."

Littlefinger's hand snaked up to touch her cheek, and Rhaelle dared not move. His breath like strong mint hit her, nearly causing her to draw back. Slowly, his long cold fingers curled and pushed a lone stray black hair behind her ear.

"Robert has always been many things," Rhaelle whispered, her eyes not moving from his own. She felt like an animal trapped.

"Yes, as have you. You've always been so closed off from me and now you leave when I feel we're just getting to know each other," He smiled, fully with bright white teeth. Rhaelle had never seen a man smile as he did. With every smile, his eyes remained calculating. Stepping back, Rae managed a strained smile as Anne went to get the mint that Petyr often chewed for hours on end. Stored here with the herbs, Petyr often came to collect once a week. Anne handed her the pack, and Rhaelle held it out for the man to grab. He grabbed her wrist instead, pulling her so they were face to face.

"As always, if you _ever_ need anything don't hesitate to let me know."

And then he was gone. Staring after him, Rhaelle swore to herself she would never ask Petyr Baelish for anything. He was a very dangerous man even if she was the only one who saw it.

It had been a long day. After nearly a hundred well wishes, all Rhaelle wanted was to crawl up in the library by herself. However, she had been invited to eat with her good-sister and Robert's children. Arriving from her job, Rhaelle was still dressed quite plainly with her hair flowing freely now. As soon as she entered the royal family's private dining hall, all eyes were on her.

Tonight, it was the children, the Queen, Tyrion and herself. A bearable turn out. If Jaime had been there, Rae may have puked. At once, Cersei's eyes went to her cheek and then to her state of dress. She turned up her nose, peering instead at Joffery. Sitting awkwardly between Tyrion and Tommen, Rhaelle apologized for her tardiness.

At once, Myrcella and Tommen were chattering with about her upcoming marriage. They were giggling, going on about how lucky she was to marry a noble lord.

"I've heard he's quite handsome," Myrcella whispered shyly from across the table, "And strong."

"Really?" Rhaelle responded smiling kindly. Cersei, Joffery and Tyrion were deep in their own conversation. No doubt an exchange of quips and insults, "And where on earth did you hear that from?"

"I can't remember, but I'm sure it's true!"

"And what of you, Tommen? What do you think of my wedding?" Tommen frowned heavily into his food looking unhappy with the mention of it.

"I don't like it! It means you'll have to leave me here all by myself. I don't want it, Aunt Elle!"

"I don't wish to leave you either," Rhaelle responded, reaching for the boy's hand, "But I must go help Robb Stark run his home just like I do here, and I must help him raise our children so you'll have cousins." At once, Tommen was grinning at the mention of possible cousins.

"How horrid it must be for you, Aunt, to be forced to warm a wolf's bed for the rest of your life," Joffery's pompous voice said from down the table. At once, Tyrion and Rhaelle shared an annoyed look, ready for the storm of idiotic comments, "I hear Robb Stark is as wild as the come with wolf blood. It's said that wolves don't love, which is a pity for someone as soft as you, Aunt. You'll likely be taken from behind like a savage."

Rhaelle opened her mouth ready to attack the annoying twit, but Cersei's voice interrupted smoothly and coldly.

"Now, Joff, let's not say such crude things at the table despite how true they may be." At once, Rae felt horribly ready to throttle the Queen. Especially when she sent Rae a small pitying smile, "Those Northerners aren't known for their loving hearts."

Rhaelle said nothing, her eyes going to her food. They sat in silence for a moment, only the sound of utensils scraping on the bowls filling the room. Until, of course, Joffery opened his mouth.

"Your bruise looks horrid, Aunt. I do hope it'll go away by the time you see Stark or he'll surely run before you can marry."

"Be silent, Joffery," Cersei snapped, startling the table. It was not often that the Queen scolded her son so it was quite effective. The boy shut his mouth instantly. Startled, Rae met the green eyes of the Lannister bitch. In her eyes was a strange understanding. Yes, Rhaelle supposed Cersei Lannister was the only woman in the world that knew what it was like to be hit by Robert Barratheon.

The spent the remainder of the meal making small talk. Rhaelle said little. Her mind was fixated on the Lannister's and their hatred of the Stark's. The Lannister's spoke ill of the Stark's. They never ceased to mention the coldness of their blood and hearts. Never did the forget to repeat how difficult she would find it to get to know her intended. Her brother's wife was always eager to get in a jibe at Rhaelle's expense, and it did not cease that night.

Later that night, Rhaelle found herself curled up in the library reading a book about the tales of the North. But, her silence did not last.

"You always had your head in books," a familiar voice spoke from behind her. Cersei emerged from behind the shelving, moving to seat herself at Rae's side. Rhaelle stiffened. Never had she liked the Queen. Now, with Stannis' words at the back of her mind, Rae hated her. She was beautiful in a cruel horrible way. Rae nearly thought her ugly for her eyes were cold and calculating. No love or warmth.

"Books feed the mind," Rae answered, her eyes meeting Cersei's green ones. The woman smiled, mockingly.

"Books do nothing for us woman, little stag," she spoke, her lip curling cruelly, "We woman have only our cunts to protect us because men value only what we offer between our legs. Remember that when he takes you. Remember that power you have over him."

"Perhaps Robb Stark will be honorable. Perhaps he will respect me," Rhaelle responded, her hands gripping into fists underneath the table. Even to her own ears, those words sounded like a green girl. Cersei responded, laughing cruelly.

"Sweet, child, no man respects his woman. He will look at you as an object, a gift to him from a king. Remember that and steel yourself from him. He will never love you."

Rhaelle's face flushed, and she face the Queen with defiance. Cersei Lannister played a game of manipulation. She attempted to plant a seed of fear in her heart, but Rhaelle was a Baratheon, and she would not fall so easily.

"Just because my brother will never love you does not mean that there is no hope for me," Rae hissed, standing quickly, "I pity you. You are a hard and cruel woman who no man has loved. I pity you because you are nothing. You have created these webs of lies and hate to make yourself into someone powerful. Yet all you have become is a wicked woman. I will never let myself become you."

Rhaelle Baratheon turned, storming from the room in a rush of rage. In her haste, she missed the dangerous look in Cersei Lannister's eyes. Never would she forget those words. Never would she forgive.


	3. The Choices of A King

**_Eddard Stark. October 4th, 297. Winterfell_**

Ned Stark had not been surprised when a letter arrived from Robert discussing the matter of his still unmarried sister. Rhaelle Baratheon was only sixteen yet Robert wrote as if the child was on the verge of becoming an old hag. But, then again, Catelyn had married him at the same age and had been betrothed to Brandon at the tender age of twelve. No, this letter had not been a surprise in any manner. Ned had always known Robert wished to unite House Stark and House Baratheon. If only to see his fantasies with Lyanna fulfilled. Never had a Stark and Baratheon married. And Ned could not help but wonder if the Gods had prevented such a thing for a reason.

Ned had not seen Rhaelle Baratheon since the end of the war. He remembered her vividly though. The first time Ned had seen the girl was after he had lifted the siege of Storm's End. Ned often dreamed of this moment. The moment where he marched into the great stronghold to be greeted by the walking dead. The people of Storm's End had been skinny, gaunt, their eyes protruding from their heads in a very unnatural way. There was no laughter when Ned Stark arrived. Only desperation.

Stannis Baratheon, however thin, had not succumbed to the same desperation. He had greeted Ned formally, asking news about the war and wishing to aid in any way possible. That was when he saw little Rhaelle Baratheon. A child of nearly two, the girl was but a babe. She too looked gaunt and thin, horribly so. Yet, she was the only one in the entire keep to greet him with a smile. Ned had never seen something so lovely yet never would Ned forget what Stannis' Baratheon told him that day.

 _You do not know how difficult it is, Eddard Stark, to watch your sister, who you have raised like your own, slowly perish before your eyes. I made her eat our dead. I made her survive._

Rhaelle's smile had given him hope. Eddard had taken the girl from him then, at Robert's request, to bring her to him when they met in Dorne. Even with Lyanna's death, little Rhaelle had given him comfort.

Now, Rhaelle Baratheon was being offered to his son. A great honor, to be sure. So, Ned called upon his lady to see her thoughts for Catelyn had always had a keen mind for politics.

Catelyn entered with a sweet smile, and took the offered letter from his hand with great interest. Her eyes scanned over the pages under she finally looked up to him with eyes filled with pure shock.

"A betrothal between the King's sister and my son?" Catelyn muttered, looking overwhelmed. She sat shakily on the chair closest to his desk, her hands grasping the paper like a life-line in her hand. Ned knew that Rhaelle Baratheon would be good for Catelyn. His wife had long fretted over the eventual fate of all her children, but none more so than Robb. Robb was the Heir to Winterfell and would become Warden of the North when Ned stepped down. It was of the upmost important that the woman he married was prepared for the difficulty that came with such a title. The North was said to be the harshest region to run, it took morale and dedication. It no doubt pleased his wife to hear that someone has noble as Rhaelle Baratheon would be tasked with such a job.

"Yes, Robert seems quite adamant. But, he leaves the decision ultimately up to Robb," Ned replied, running his hand over the Baratheon wax seal that had come next to the one representing the crown.

"Is Lady Rhaelle capable of running the North?" Catelyn paused, her gaze holding his own firmly, "Will she be good for our son?"

Ned did not think that his opinion on whether or not Rhaelle would be good for their son mattered. In the eyes of the King, this was a political alliance. His little sister had to be married off somewhere and to a house equal of her status. Why not a Stark? But, looking at the distress and earnest worry in his wife's expression, Ned bowed his head low.

"Aye," he said at last, "Rhaelle Baratheon is said to be a noble, kind woman. A great beauty. I do not doubt she will make Robb a fine wife. I could think of no one better." And, truth be told, he couldn't. For no one in the realm was logically more perfect for his son. Rhaelle was Robb's age, she was beautiful, a higher noble lady, smart.

"I will send word to Robb," his wife said, smiling like a young girl. It made Ned feel much joy to see her that way. It had been long since his wife had something great to do. This would be quite the task, and Catelyn always loved such projects.

Ned watched his son closely as he entered the study. His son was a good boy and would become a great man. Robb had always been kind, smart, dedicated, and a great fighter. He had his mother's fiery heart, but Ned saw himself in his eldest boy more than in any of his children. Standing before them now, Robb still looked very much like a lord on the peak of manhood. Though he now sprouted a beard, Robb still held the youth to his face that would soon begin to disappear. Even Robb's height was not yet complete. He was a tall boy, taller than both Jon and Theon, but would likely grown to surpass even his father.

"Robb, sit down," Ned spoke, gesturing to the chair between him and Catelyn. Robb marched over to the chair, seating himself down on the edge and gazing at his father with grave blue eyes, "Son, a raven came from the South. A raven from King's Landing."

"King's Landing?" Robb asked, his face curious, "Why does the King write, father?"

"The King writes with a proposal. He writes to offer you a very valuable gift," Robb looked perplexed as if he had never dreamed of the King giving someone like him a gift of any sort, "King Robert wishes to extend to you an offer of his sister, Rhaelle Baratheon's, hand in marriage."

Robb truly looked shocked now. His mouth had dropped, and his eyes had begun to stare deeply into the distance. Pursing his lips, Robb clasped his hands together as if he feared they would shake.

"Let me see the letter," Robb's voice was a command yet Ned found no offense. It was a hard moment, that moment when a boy is forced to become a man in order to serve his future wife. So, Catelyn handed the letter over, her eyes peering at her son sharply.

After a moment, Robb set the letter down and once more began gazing at the wall. His face was grave, eyes furrowed, a frown on his features. Robb had always been good-natured, but in that moment Ned had never seen a face so cold. The closest would be, perhaps, Stannis Baratheon's face the night Robert had named him Lord of Dragonstone.

At last, Robb looked back to his father. His face relaxed slightly, a new fire burning in his soul. He lifted his chin, and suddenly Ned found himself looking at the man his son would become.

"Send a raven to King's Landing. I intend to take Rhaelle Baratheon as my wife."

Ned smiled grimly, pleased with his son then. Standing, he met grabbed his sons hand in a tight handshake, embracing him all at once. Robb had made a fine choice. Yet, Ned could not think what would become of it. Never had a Baratheon married a Stark. Maybe the Gods had stopped the unions of the past, but now the tide had changed. A Baratheon was coming North.

* * *

 ** _Rhaelle Baratheon. October 8th, 297. King's Landing_**

The highest garden of the Red Keep had always been one of Rhaelle's favorite spots in the castle. They were located up on of the highest tower, stretched out to the open sky. They faced the sea, and, if one was feeling brave, one could stand upon the garden's walls to embrace the ocean breeze. That's what she was doing now. With bare feet and her hair loose, Rhaelle pulled herself up to the top of the wall which only reached her chin. Carefully, foot by foot, she settled herself on the ledge.

The wall top was barley bigger than her feet. If she were to stumbled, there would be nowhere to go but back into the garden or over into the ocean depths below. The wind was harsh today as it had been for the last week. Varys had told her the other night that a great storm was coming from the North. Rae hadn't been quite sure if he was speaking to her in riddles or if what he said was true. Either way, the winds thrashed against her with the strength of a storm. They took her hair, allowing it, and the bottom of her white dress to flitter behind her.

Looking down into the water below, Rae could smell the harsh salty scent wafting up towards her. In combination with the roses, it smelt oddly lovely. Today, the waters were as horribly clear blue. Lighter than the color of the sky and the color of her eyes. She could see every rock, every wave, in ocean's depths.

Rhaelle took a deep breath through her teeth, closing her eyes and outstretching her arms. It was a horribly wonderful feeling. It made her heart race, being so near to flying. Without any sense of the world, Rhaelle felt as if her body was moving with the winds among the birds, among the dragons.

As a child, Rae had a grand fascination with dragons. A fascination she kept silent from everyone but Renly and Tyrion Lannister. She used to climb to the darkest corners of the Red Keep, seeking out the skulls of the great dragons of old. During her time in Dragonstone, Rae had loved the dragon-oriented architecture of the castle. She had loved the painted table. The tales of the dragons who had once dwelt there. Rae had always wished she was the Lord of Dragonstone. But, alas, even now Shireen would get that honor before she. Standing here now, Rhaelle wanted nothing more to be a top a dragon with the wind at her feet.

But, alas, she was here among the wretched. Rhaelle was not blind to the cruelty in the world. She had lived and breathed the sinister hate when she was not even two. Rae never forgot the Tyrell's marching outside of Storm's End. She would never forget her the starvation, the death. She would never forget Tywin Lannister's hate as the children of the Prince were thrown before her brother's feet. Nor would she forget the look in his eyes, the glee, when he saw them. There was no good in King's Landing.

Rhaelle could not imagine Winterfell to be the same. It was an isolated castle with little dealings in the politics of the capital. Isolated. Yes, she would be free of the wretched heart of the capital, but in exchange she would be thrust to live with people she did not know. She would be forced to marry a man who she did not love and who did not love her in return. To make matters worse, she would be alone. Not one person from her home would follow her. Utterly alone.

And she did not wish to leave at such a perilous time. Stannis would be left alone to deal with traitorous deeds of the Lannister's. Jon Arryn was an optimistic fool. A man with no backbone, Lord Arryn had never been able to stand up to Robert. But, Robert loved the old man as he loved Eddard Stark. In a way, she supposed Robert loved his children. There was, however, little love between Robert and Renly. Even less between Robert and Stannis. It had always been Rhaelle's duty to mend the bonds between her brothers.

Opening her blue-violet eyes wide, Rae looked out upon the open sea and wished horribly she could be across the waters. She wished nothing more to escape the burdens of her name, the burdens of her marriage. Little did she know that thousands of leagues across from exactly where she stood, a young woman with hair as white as snow was wishing the same thing.

* * *

 ** _Jaime Lannister. October 8th, 297. King's Landing_**

Jaime Lannister was having quite a day. It all started with a morning wake-up call from the lovely Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Barristan had woke him up with a bucket of ice cold water and an angry look. It seemed that, yet again, Jaime had done something not so noble to piss the man off. But, Jaime respected the man, nodding his head every now and again to show he understand.

Then, he had stood in front of Robert's bloody door for three hours as the man drank and whored his way to hell. It was not yet midday and already Jaime was sure the man had drunk more than four glasses of wine. He was laughing loudly with some women. A whore no doubt. It disgusted and irritated him beyond belief. Never did Jaime think that Robert would become such a man.

Then, Stannis Baratheon had marched around the corner, brooding with that irritated tick in his eyes. He stopped in front of Jaime, not even sparing a smile.

"Robert's in there?" Stannis asked, gruffly and looking quite annoyed. He towered over Jaime and even Robert, looking down at nearly everyone he met. Robert and Stannis shared very little. In personality, they were nearly opposites in all regards. Where Robert was loud and brash, Stannis was reserved and spoke with a severe deep voice that needed no extra sound. Robert liked his woman and had little sense of justice. Stannis seemed to hate the idea of a good fuck and never stopped muttering on about duty. Perhaps the only thing they shared was their temper, a character of all the Baratheon siblings. In looks, Robert was fat with an unkempt black beard trickled with grey and watery light blue eyes. Stannis was tall, sinewy with a thin sharp face shadowed by heavy brows. His hair was well-kept, a black-beard with thin hair on his head. Stannis had the eyes of a fox, sharp and the most peculiar color of blue-violet.

"He's in no state for company," Jaime replied with a lopsided smile. Stannis immediately knew what that meant and regarded Jaime with a fiery look. Perhaps the only man who hated Robert's activities more than Jaime himself was Stannis Baratheon. For a moment, they stood their staring at each other. Jaime could almost hear Stannis' teeth grinding in frustration.

"Tell him to get dressed. We have a meeting," Stannis muttered joylessly, "A very important meeting."

"The King does what he wants and who am I to say what he shouldn't," Jaime replied, almost basking in Stannis' growing irritation. Stannis seemed to stand taller suddenly, very angry now at his brother's lack of tact.

"Do not one of you have the strength to tell my brother to get his bloody act together?" Stannis spat, his spine rigid and breath coming out in huffs.

"You surely do. I'm sure the entire keep heard you and King Robert go at it the other night. What was that about again?" Jaime allowed a smirk to fall on his face as Stannis tensed, "Ah, yes, I remember. Our good king slapped the hell out of your little sister. Haven't seen the bruise yet but I've heard it's quite the wound."

Stannis was physically shaking in pent frustration and rage. Jaime had been there the night Robert and Stannis had really gone at it. The King had barely gotten down the hall when the much quicker Stannis was upon him.

 _"Robert," Stannis spat, his eyes gleaming with something furious and face red, "You're a coward. A retched man."_

Jaime remembered being somewhat impressed. No one really ever told the King off, and the only two women in the entire castle who did were rewarded with slaps and pain. Stannis, that night, had been unhinged.

 _"Don't begin this with me, Stannis," Robert growled, his face red with rage and wine, "The bloody girl deserved it." Stannis lunged forward, shoving the man against the hard wall. Jaime wasn't quite sure what to do as Stannis held him there. Protect the King, he supposed. But, it was quite a pleasing sight._

 _Robert struggled, but Stannis was a man in the peak of health and held him easily. He shoved him harshly, huffing in his face like some sort of ram. In that moment, Jaime Lannister knew Stannis Baratheon was a man he never wanted to cross. Even as a young man, Jaime had always though Stannis was far more threatening that Robert. At last, Jaime moved forward but by that point Stannis was already composing himself and a length away from the King._

 _"Don't touch her again, Robert," Stannis muttered, once again composed, "Don't touch her like that ever again, do you understand?"_

 _"Who the fuck told you that you could tell me what to do? I could have your head for fucking touching me."_

 _"I'm your brother," Stannis replied, looking somewhere between pissed and frustrated, "And she's the only sister you've got."_

 _"You've always babied the girl."_

 _Even Jaime knew that wasn't true. Stannis was, if anything, the bluntest out of the Baratheon. He had never treated Rhaelle as anything less than an adult. Even when she was but a child, Stannis had told the girl the truth on all aspects of life._

 _Robert paused, looking quite tired suddenly. Stannis too had deflated, but still was on edge like a snake ready to strike._

 _"She's got too much will. Too much spirit. It's unnatural."_

 _Jaime and Stannis shared an odd look then. Neither mentioned that Lyanna Stark had been just as wild and yet he claimed to love her still. Instead, Stannis nodded his head slowly._

 _"Tis no wonder. She was raised by men in a war. But, she will do her duty."_

 _"You will get her to agree to the Stark boy?"_

 _"I will speak to her. Rhaelle knows her duty, she will marry the boy."_

"Open the door."

"I really wouldn't," Jaime said, but was already reaching for the handle. He was always very eager to see a fight between the Baratheon siblings. However, it was just his luck that the whore was making her way out as soon as the door opened. Stannis curled his lip slightly at the sight as he summoned Robert.

After that, Jaime had been drawn into standing around the Small Council meeting where Robert spent nearly an hour trying to convince everyone that a tourney was to be held in Riverrun in honor his sister's wedding. Riverrun was a good middle ground between Winterfell and King's Landing. Neither party would be forced to make the entire trip. And, if there was anything that Robert loved, it was tourney. Everyone but Stannis and Jon Arryn had been incredibly fine with this plan. However, Stannis Baratheon and Jon Arryn both felt it was much too costly for the crown.

"I don't think this is necessary," Stannis responded bluntly, his frown deep and arms crossed. The brother's had been arguing for nearly the entire meeting. Yet, Stannis was relentless, ready to fight to the end.

"It is the union of two of the most powerful houses in the kingdom! If that doesn't warrant a grand tourney, then I don't know what does."

"The King is right. House Stark and House Baratheon deserve such a festival. It has been long since the kingdom has had such a gathering on this scale," Pycelle added, eager to side with the King. Stannis' eyes rolled to the ceiling in exasperation.

"Then these funds will be taken from the Baratheon House not the bloody crown," Stannis snapped, "My sister is a Baratheon, and her wedding will be from our House," Stannis said at last. Littlefinger looked nearly grateful as he no longer had to go fishing around for money to support the already indebted crown.

"It is decided," Jon said at last, "The tourney will be held in two weeks' time. It will be a total of two days of festivity, and the wedding will be held on the third day. Grand Maester, if you would write to Lord Holder Tully to tell him our plans to use his home as the site for such an event. Robert, I trust you can handle writing to Eddard Stark."

As soon as the meeting concluded, Jaime felt relief. His shift was finished, and he could finally do as he pleased with the rest of his day.

* * *

 ** _Rhaelle Baratheon. October 8th, 297. King's Landing_**

"You're going to kill yourself," a smooth voice warned from behind her. Slowly, Rhaelle turned her head back to face the man. Of course, it was Jaime Lannister. He looked horribly handsome standing there, grinning at her. Slowly he walked forward, offering her his hand, "I thought this habit of yours died when you bled."

Rhaelle blushed, but Jaime Lannister was a man with little care. He said things that he meant. It was true that she had long stood upon these walls, looking at the sea. When her brothers had caught wind of it, however, it had been forbidden. For a moment, Rae reached for his hand, but then she remembered Stannis' word and felt sick. Quickly, she pulled her arm back. The movement instantly send her wobbling. With wide eyes, her mouth opened in a scream as she closed her eyes. Warm hands were on her waist, pulling her off the ledge and into a warm chest. Startled, Rae's eyes met his own.

His hand went up to touch her cheek, bruised and getting yellow by the day. Long fingers trailed over the injury as his eyes studied her. As he stared into her blue-violet eyes, he remembered the first time they had met. He was sitting upon the throne, one leg thrown carelessly over the side. The Mad King lay at his feet, dead. Eddard Stark was the first he saw, but then it was her. With her large eyes and innocent beauty. She had looked at the body of the King and then to him. He had not seen fear.

"You're very beautiful, my lady," Jaime said, suddenly and released her, "Robb Stark is a lucky man."

"Do not call me beautiful," Rae snapped, drawing back to create more space between them, "I am not beautiful."

"No," Jaime agreed, his face oddly serious, "You're stunning. The greatest beauty in the kingdoms without a doubt."

"Stop," Rhaelle snapped, her eyes flaming, "Stop it."

Jaime laughed full and true, his head thrown back in glee. This was true laughter. True joy. Not his usual smirk.

"You are the only women I have ever met who does not like being called beautiful. But, I will say it again. Robb Stark is a lucky man. It is a pity that the Starks are known for their cold hearts. Hopefully, you won't feel too lonely all by yourself with nothing but a corpse to warm your bed."

Rae drew herself up, unamused by his degrading comment. Turning, she attempted to make her way around him, but he was much quicker. He stepped to the side, blocking her way. Another attempt, the same fate. They danced around each other until at last Rae got fed up.

"Let me through, Ser."

"Come now, Lady Baratheon. It has been long since we've talked. Tell me how did you get the bruise?"

Rhaelle knew Jaime knew. It was some sort of sick satisfaction to him, perhaps, for her to admit that she was so easily broken by her brother. As he stared at her now with a smirk, she nearly hated him.

"You know where I got it," Rae snapped, crossing her arms in angry insecurity, "Who else in this castle hits women with such force?"

"Robert is a fool to hit you so," he paused when he saw skepticism flicker through her features, "I mean, honest and true. The small folk would simply go up in arms if news got out about such abuses upon their fair lady."

"Oh, don't exaggerate," Rae snapped, turning to face the ocean once more and look out at the waning sun, "The people know little about what goes on behind these walls."

"Aye, they know little of politics, that is to be sure. But, the people see our hearts. The hate Robert, and they love you. A knight cannot lie, my lady."

Rhaelle pursed her lips, wondering now if the man would answer her true if she asked the one thing that was burning her mind. _Why, Jaime Lannister? What possessed you to do such a thing? Love? Yes, perhaps, but she does not love you. Cersei loves none but her children._

"I do not believe that," Rae breathed, angrily. Jaime Lannister had always been difficult for the young Baratheon. He had taken to her as a child and now had become that irritating friend who was always there but drove one up the wall. Now, she couldn't stand the sight of him, "All men lie. If not to save themselves, to save the ones they love."

"Do you remember when I told you I killed the Mad King for the kingdom?" Jaime burst suddenly, looking more serious than she had ever seen him, "Do you remember when you were a child and I told you it was for your sake and the sake of all others that I killed him?"

"Yes."

"That day is the only day I've lied to you," Jaime swallowed, "I killed the Mad King for myself."

"I would have killed him too. I do not mean to say there is honor in turning on one who you should protect. Robert would say you are a coward, to stab a man in his back. Stannis and Jon Arryn would call you a turncloak. But, I would not name you either. You saw his terror every day. I would have killed him too."

"No, you wouldn't have," Jaime said with a smirk, joining her to lean on the edge, "You would have thought of something just and fair. You would have gotten the task done without such measures. But, Tyrion is the one in our family with a quick mind. My sword is all I have. You could not kill, my lady. You do not have the heart for it."

"You underestimate me, Ser Lannister. I would kill for justice. I know I would."

"You do not know anything until you've felt your sword pierce a living breathing man. There is nothing like your first kill. You'll never forget it."

"Then let us hope the first man I kill deserves it."

Jaime laughed loudly, grinning at her patronizingly but with a touch of affection. He patted her arms, leaning forward to smile in her face.

"You'll never get close to killing a man. For the rest of your life, you will have men follow you that will give you their lives. Here, there has always been someone to kill for you. In Winterfell, the Starks are fiercely loyal."

"I don't need anyone to fight my battles," Rhaelle said, her face steeled and angry, "I don't want anyone to fight for me."

"Well, that is unfortunate. Didn't the King tell you of the upcoming celebration? A tourney is to be held in Riverrun in your name and will be followed by your wedding. Everyone will be fighting for you."

"Do you ever wish to just…leave? Do you ever wonder what lies beyond this sea? Sometimes, I dream of it," Rhaelle said, suddenly as she turned to him. Jaime examined her, taking note of the excitement in her eyes. Then, her faced flushed, "I…it was a foolish comment, I apologize."

And she turned away from him, head down and walking quickly. But, she did not know that Jaime Lannister did not think it foolish by any means. He too had harbored such notions. He too had felt the weight of his name.


	4. Winterfell

_**October 9**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 287. King's Landing**_

Today was the day she would leave everything she had ever known. Rhaelle would leave her room where she had spent the last ten years. She would leave her handmaiden who had taken care of her since she had become a woman. She would leave her niece and nephew, her brothers, her people.

There would be no great parting for her. Rae had begged Robert to give her peace. He had wanted to hold a large tourney, a feast, to celebrate this great day. But, Rae had pleaded for only silence. He had given it to her. In the morning she would dine with Stannis, and then she would leave with a convey of men, all of her belongings, and the gifts many a lord had given for her husband.

The dinner with her brother had started out quiet, each of them picking at their food refusing to break the tension. After nearly twenty minutes of this, Stannis cleared his throat. Rae looked up, eager to hear his words.

"Do not tell the Stark's anything of the treason here. The time will come for the people to know. But, we must play this out wisely and slowly. The Lannister's have ears and eyes in every corner of this city. If I move too quickly, they will catch on."

"I would not be concerned with your own actions, brother," Rhaelle noted, taking a sip of her juice, "It is Jon Arryn who worries me. He is not a man of subtlety. Already, he begins to act in a way that has drawn questions."

"Yes," Stannis snapped, obviously having seen the merit in her words, "I know. Perhaps letting Arryn in so early was not the right plan but I had little choice. Robert will listen to no other."

"I wish I could stay here. I want to help you."

"You could do nothing," Stannis responded, honestly yet a bit harsh, "You are smart, sister, but no one will take the word of a women. No, this is the responsibility of men. It is better off you are sent North. It is less likely you will slip up. There will be no way for the Lannister's to get you with the Starks. The Starks are no supporters of their values."

Rhaelle pretended she did not feel offended by Stannis' dismissal of her other merits. She was more than just a woman. Deep inside, Rhaelle cried out for him to understand that she was just as able as he. But, she stayed silent. Their last morning would not be filled with anger.

"Stannis," Rhaelle whispered after a moment, "Will Robb Stark be like Robert?"

It was the question of a young girl. Once again, Stannis looked up his little sister as he once did when she was not the height of his knee. Staring at him now, he could sense her vulnerability. He hated it.

"I doubt it. The Starks are, if anything, irritatingly noble men. If your husband is anything like his father, you have little to fear."

They traveled swiftly, greatly unburdened by the lack of a carriage. Rhaelle refused to ride in such a gaudy thing. She preferred horseback, the wind in her hair with freedom beneath her feet. They had only a large wagon, filled to the brim with her belongings and the wedding gifts. With her were only four men: three common guards and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

When she had been told that Barristan Selmy was to lead the party, Rhaelle had nearly fainted in joy. She enjoyed the man's company, and he had a way about him that made things much more tolerable. It was a wonder that Robert had allowed his leading guard to accompany his sister for such a journey. There was no doubt Renly and Stannis had something to do with it.

Rhaelle was enjoying the travel, seeing new lands and admiring the landscape of her home. Yet, her heart was continuously sorrowed, haunted by the images and dreams of what was to come. It was not until they were camped at the edge of the Neck that Rae found the courage to ask Barristan about the Starks.

"Ser Barristan," Rhaelle asked from where she was lying on the grass, her eyes taking in the night sky, "What are the Starks like?"

"I think them to be good men, my lady. Never have I met a Stark that I did not respect. Many do not like the Starks for they are not men of laughter, but few can argue that they are not noble and honorable."

"Not men of laughter?" Rae asked, frowning as she took in the stars, "So, I am fated to marry a grime statue with no laughter, no love, no joy?"

"I'm sure the Starks do laugh, and there is no doubt they love. But, they are men that do not show their emotions," Barristan paused, stopping his work on the wood he was carving, "I know Eddard Stark. He is a fine man. Do not fear, my lady. You will find happiness."

"Thank you, Ser. You have always found hope where I could not," Rae paused, her eyes drifting towards the elderly man, "Ser Barristan? Will you tell me a story from the war?"

"I shall tell you about the day Eddard Stark rode into King's Landing."

 _ **November 11**_ _ **th**_ _ **, 297. Winterfell.**_

Catelyn Stark could hardly believe the day had come where her son's wife would arrive. The castle had been in constant tension since it was announced that the king's sister rode from King's Landing to wed the Stark heir. Like a dream, the days passed, each day getting shorter and shorter. Everyone was eager to see the woman who would become the future Lady of Winterfell.

Ned too seemed eager to see the younger Baratheon. He had told Catelyn that he remembered her as a small babe in the middle of a horrible war. He had told her of a night so horrible and so bloody, and the feeling of joy he had felt for but a moment when Stannis Baratheon had place the child in his hands. Ned was interested to see who the girl had become. Robb asked him constantly for details of his intended yet Ned could only remember her eyes. A dark blue unlike anything they had ever seen.

The rest of her children were eager to see someone from the king's House. None of her children had met someone like Lady Baratheon. It was a spectacle and something exiting. Bran, when news had reached them that Barristan Selmy rode with the party, had beamed with joy. He went on for days about meeting a true knight. Sansa, nearly nightly, would drop some small comment at dinner about the beauty of southern ladies or about the fashion in the South.

Catelyn had heard much about Rhaelle Baratheon yet seemingly nothing at all. Everything she had heard held little substance. Rumor had it that Rhaelle Baratheon was the most beautiful woman in all the lands. But, Catelyn supposed the same was said about Cersei Lannister. She had also heard that the young woman was kind, bookish and smart. But, other than those few vague details, Catelyn knew nothing about the woman who would wed her son.

Robb, her noble son. Catelyn would never forget when they had taken him to Ned's study to tell him of the King's proposal. Ned had spoken to him like a true man, handing him the King's request for her son to study. Robb had said nothing for a while, and Catelyn remember ensuring him that it was his choice. And suddenly, as if by some sort of magic, her son was a man. He had turned to them, his face grave and serious.

 _Send word to King Robert. I will take Rhaelle Baratheon for my wife._

As more than a month had passed since that day, Catelyn began to notice the small things about her son that were changing. He still was carefree, eager to learn, and found joy in the simple things like hunting and long rides through the Godswood. However, she would often find her son speaking lowly to his father about things she did not dare to interrupt. Only once had she heard their words. They spoke of the duty of a husband. Robb seemed to take his new duty seriously. She would often find him watching her own duties with a close eye. When she had asked, he merely responded that he wished to know what he was supposed to teach his wife. Catelyn had tried to explain that she could handle such a task, but Robb was determined to teach his southern wife-to-be everything.

Today, Robb was quiet. He did not laugh loudly with Theon or rise to the taunts of Arya. Instead, he stared deeply into his meal. His face was grave, and he looked like a man unsure of the world.

"He will be fine, Cat," Ned whispered, catching her gaze, "The boy has every reason to be nervous. It is not every day a man meets the woman he will spend the rest of his life with."

A loud sound echoed through the hall as a young maid, flushed and nervous in front of the family, bowed low.

"My lords, my ladies, Lady Baratheon is at the gates."

The entire Stark household stood near the gates awaiting the small party. The first line held the immediate family lined up by age. Each of her children was equally eager, bouncing on their toes to be the first to see the young Baratheon. Robb was the only one whose face was unmoving. Behind them was the rest of their house, from Maester Luwin to Theon Greyjoy, not a soul in the household wanted to miss this arrival.

At last, the gates swung open with a loud creak. With bated breath, the first rider entered the courtyard. At once, Catelyn knew who this man was. Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. She had not seen this man for nearly twenty years. He had aged well, still handsome and mighty in his old age. Selmy wore the gold of the Kingsguard, shining among the drably dressed Northerners.

Bran began to eagerly whisper, pulling at Arya's hand in his joy. Sansa shushed them both, her eyes transfixed on the elderly man. So occupied they were with the knight that it was not until Arya began to chatter loudly that they realized another form was galloping into the courtyard.

Catelyn's first thought was how unnatural it was for a Southern lady to ride instead of sit in a carriage. Yet, Lady Baratheon rode like she had never walked a day in her life. She sat tall, clothed in a lovely but simple dress of dark blue. It was hard to get a look at her so quickly she had ridden in. All Catelyn could tell was that Rhaelle's hair was long, beautiful and as dark as night.

Selmy leapt from his horse, immediately going to aid the lady off her own. During this time, Catelyn looked to her son. His eyes had not moved from Rhaelle since the moment she had entered the courtyard. Catelyn could see the desperate yearning in his eyes. That simple yearning to look upon her face.

Then, at last, Rhaelle Baratheon faced the Starks. And, yes, indeed she was beautiful. Her face was fair, womanly yet strong with lips of pale pink and skin glowingly pale. She was well built with childbearing hips and enough assets to make any man happy. Yet it was her hair and eyes that made her so alluring. Hair so dark against skin so pale. Her eyes were sharp; the bluest Catelyn had ever seen.

"Lady Baratheon," her husband spoke, walking forward to greet the girl, "You are most welcome here. Winterfell is at your service."

She smiled, allowing Ned to take her hand and kiss it in greeting. She had yet to look upon Robb, her eyes refusing to face her fears. Her son, however, was the complete opposite. Robb stared at the woman silently, his eyes revealing something Catelyn could not comprehend.

"I thank you and your House, Lord Stark. My brother sends his well wishes. He wants me to let you know that he intends to visit quite soon. But, I would not put too much weight into those words. Robert is not known for his decisiveness."

The entire courtyard went quiet. Catelyn felt her own breath hitch in her throat as Rhaelle so easily dismissed her brother. It was unheard of for one to speak of a king in such a way. At once, the girl looked ashamed, her eyes trailing to the floor as if she realized that they were unaccustomed to her honest ways.

"Aye," Ned replied, his eyes twinkling in laughter, "Robert has always made decisions on his toes." And, like that, her husband had made the girl feel welcome again. Rhaelle smiled at him fully and true.

It was then Robb stepped forward as if unable to wait any longer for his father's call. His face was so grave that he looked as if he was marching to his death rather than to meet his wife. Catelyn wanted nothing more than to slap him over the head. He would scare the girl off before she even stepped foot in the castle.

Rhaelle's eyes seemed to notice the man moving towards them with purpose. Ned stepped backwards, realizing that his son was now in control and had taken the situation into his own hands. All eyes were on the couple hoping that Robb would at least smile.

Instead, he just stood there. Staring.

Rhaelle was nervous. Moments ago, she had been comfortable conversing with Lord Stark. As soon as Robb Stark had walked forward, Rae felt her heart stopped. She felt trapped and overwhelmed. Robb was a tall man with wide shoulders and a lean build. He hovered over her, nearly touching her but not. And his gaze, never had a man given her such a look. His eyes, light blue like the sky, seemed to burn into her face with a hot intensity. Never had a man gazed at her so openly, so powerfully. It frightened her.

Robb Stark was horribly handsome. His face was well defined with high cheek bones and wonderful lips. Upon his face was a light beard, dark with traces of red. His hair was a mix of browns and reds, curly and thick, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

Suddenly, his hand was reaching for her hand. The movement startled her, and Rae found herself unconsciously stepping backwards. Robb's eyes, clouded by heavy brows, did not move from hers. However, a raw emotion crossed them. Rae could not decipher what he was feeling. Robb Stark was a hard man to read with a face so passive that not one thing showed.

Slowly, Robb moved his hand towards her own again, and Rhaelle let him take it. His hand was rough, large, warm. Carefully, he moved his hands to his lips, kissing the top as his eyes continued to gaze into her own.

"I am Robb Stark, my lady," he whispered, drawing back and dropping her hand like a hot iron. He stepped back, creating a great space between them that was obvious and confusing. The man had suddenly become overwhelmed by something. He moved from her quickly.

"And I am Rhaelle Baratheon."

 _ **Hey Everybody! Sorry it has been a long time since I uploaded a new chapter. I have been busy with moving and many other events. I will try to keep updating more often and progressing the story faster. I hope you guys are like Rhaelle so far! :) Thanks for all the reviews and favorites!**_


End file.
